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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28888569">Can you face the fire when you see me there</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously'>ambiguously</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cunnilingus, F/M, Femdom, Mutual Masturbation, Political Marriage, Virgin Din Djarin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:47:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,432</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28888569</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This wasn't how Bo-Katan had intended to get the Darksaber back.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Din Djarin/Bo-Katan Kryze</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Chocolate Box - Round 6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Can you face the fire when you see me there</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucymonster/gifts">lucymonster</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Battlefield weddings were famously brief. Bo-Katan had a great-grandmother who married in the middle of a battle and lopped off the head of her enemy twenty seconds later. Bo was pleased to carry on this tradition, taking her long-desired laser sword back into her possession at the behest of her new husband and wading into combat at his side.</p><p>It wasn't the way she'd wanted to regain this weapon. She'd spent nights dreaming of relieving Gideon of his head, or burning into his guts, triumphant in her victory. She'd awakened too many mornings with her hand clenched around a hilt that wasn't there, the muscles in her fingers aching from the strain. She should have beaten him, not Din. She should have regained the Darksaber fighting Gideon hand-to-hand, not grabbing Din's nervous hand in front of the highest-ranking administrator they could find as blaster bolts whizzed around them.</p><p>Small matters. She had never wanted a large wedding, or a polite one. She'd remained unwed to accommodate any necessary political marriage. It wasn't as though she had any expectation of marrying for love. She'd lost that hope with the soft, dreadful sound of Pre's head hitting the palace's stone floor, had lost hope of family when the Darksaber cut her sister open. This blade had cost her everything. A quick wedding to a man she barely knew was an easier price to pay than most had been.</p><p>The battle was won, and three busy days later, they stood in the cool walls of the palace once more. Bo-Katan took in the vulgar changes made in her most recent absence, the decay of the once-fine decorations and the newly-impressed stamp of the lingering Imperials just as they had ruined her home before.</p><p>"It's stunning," Din said, neck craned to take in the high ceilings and ancient stonework. His outburst startled her. He was a man of few words, focused on his tasks rather than any other concerns.</p><p>She looked again, trying to see the hulking palace through the eyes of a foundling on his first visit to Sundari. "It will be. I've had to clean out the rubbish twice before. Maybe this time's the charm."</p><p>"You've lived here before?"</p><p>"I told you I was the ruler. You didn't believe me?"</p><p>He looked at the broken remains of what used to be one of Bo's favorite stained glass windows. "I am still deciding what I believe." That was as much a warning to her as anything. Din may have come to understand his covert was a splintered offshoot of her old allies, a cult wrapped up in the glories of the past, but that didn't mean he had any intention of dropping his own beliefs for her sake, not even as her consort.</p><p>A frown crossed her face under her own helmet. It was arguable who would be whose consort. Obviously, she came from the higher status family and he would take the name of House Kryze for his own, and obviously she had the experience in ruling Mandalore. Just as obviously, he was the possessor of the symbol of that leadership and by all the lore, that put him in charge.</p><p>She'd have to see about that.</p><p>"What's that?" he asked but the uncomfortable tone in his voice said he already knew.</p><p>"It's the knock-off version of a throne they've been using. We'll have to get another one made." The throne itself was clearly a single seat. It should be hers, and the thought stuck in her craw that she'd have to order a pair constructed.</p><p>"I suppose I could put something together," he said, bending closer to the scratched-up wood from trees long extinct in the desolation outside the dome.</p><p>"We pay people for that."</p><p>"I don't have a lot of credits left."</p><p>She watched him, wishing he'd take off his helmet so she could read his expressions. She didn't think Din was putting her on. He wasn't that naive, was he?</p><p>"As the rulers of Mandalore," she said, sliding the plural into the sentence like a stiletto between the joints of a cuirass, "we will collect taxes from our subjects and use them to rebuild our home." Truth told, their people were mean and debased these days, too poor to offer up more than the most meager of funds. Even the most well-off families had fallen on hard times these last ten years. "In time," she said. "Mandalore will be wealthy and prosperous again. For now, we use what we have."</p><p>She stared at the throne again, then stalked off to the living quarters. As she'd suspected, most of the suites had been wrecked and looted, or turned into troop quarters, the same as last time. The royal suite remained intact. The last governor would have installed himself there. Gideon slept in this room. She thought she could smell the thick, gross stench of Imperial bile hanging over the room but she knew that had to be her imagination.</p><p>She touched the bed frame, remembering nights spent there alone or with a lover. Satine had slept here before her, pristine in her royal bedchamber, too stuck-up to agree to a political marriage.... The old arguments swirled inside her head and Bo-Katan shoved them away. "I've won again," she said to the empty chamber, not sure whose ghost she was boasting to, knowing full well she hadn't won as she'd hoped.</p><p>A noise from the corridor pulled her out of her head. Din stood there, all shiny beskar and confused body language. "I heard you call."</p><p>"It was nothing." She gestured at the room. "This is ours now. Make yourself at home."</p><p>He took a half step back. "I have a cabin on Boba's ship."</p><p>"You are the leader of Mandalore. You are not spending your nights sleeping in a souped-up bounty hauler." Something in his stance told her he was very happy to sleep in a souped-up bounty hauler but that he wasn't going to argue the point.</p><p>"I told you time and again. The Darksaber is yours. We won back your throne."</p><p>"And we married to do it. Is this your way of asking for a divorce?"</p><p>His discomfort grew, and she knew why. The Children of the Watch had been ultra-strict even before they'd broken away from Death Watch. Divorce wasn't an option for him, not without giving up another piece of the identity he'd chosen.</p><p>"The Darksaber is yours," said Bo-Katan, the words heavy in her mouth. "You are the leader of our people. I rule at your side." She glanced at him. "I expect you to take my counsel. Do you know the political situation on Concordia? Have you ever had to barter trade negotiations with Krownest?"</p><p>"They were on our side," he said after a thoughtful moment. "I remember that."</p><p>"Good. You should know who our allies are. They'll want favors in return for their loyalty."</p><p>His affront was visible all over his body. "They're Mandalorians. They fought for Mandalore."</p><p>"They're shrewd warriors and politicians, and they fought to gain advantage. And yes," she said, seeing his shock, "they fought for Mandalore. Patriotism has a price. We'll be paying for a while. Trade partner status, friendly terms, seats on the new Council. It's all politics."</p><p>He wasn't happy about this, but he hadn't been happy when they'd started. Din had been told a story of a Mandalore lost to legend, shattered and turned to glass. That far-off and unobtainable homeland was an easier tale for orphans to cling to than the reality of a bickering set of systems that had spent half its history fighting itself.</p><p>"I'm not here for politics."</p><p>"I know. That's why you have me." She sat on the bed. "We have a meeting later tonight with four of the clans. I'm going to bathe first. Care to join me?" She started removing her armor, only to see him turn his back. She sighed. "You do remember we're married now?"</p><p>"That's a technicality. I wish you'd keep on your helmet." It was an idle wish, one they both knew was pointless.</p><p>Bo-Katan slid off her armor. Clad only in her underclothes, she approached him. She stepped in front of where he looked. "You don't want to see my face?"</p><p>"You know the creed I follow. I can't make you follow it but I can wish." She wondered if he'd shut his eyes under his helmet. She hadn't seen his face, only the back of his head briefly, and even that had been a terrible intimacy he'd punished himself for after the child had gone away with his teacher.</p><p>"There is more than one Way."</p><p>She turned and headed into the 'fresher. The fixtures hadn't changed much since the last time she'd been here. The most recent governor had kept it clean, and the water was hot from the spray. She scrubbed off the last few days of sweat and grime, wistful for the fine soaps and creams she used to keep in that alcove, the brush she once hung from this hook. The first time she'd come into this room it had been spread with Satine's things, the products she'd used to maintain her own chilly beauty. The last time Bo had been in here, she'd thought the battle she'd been headed into after her quick ablutions would end far differently than it did.</p><p>She'd aged since the last time she'd washed here. More wrinkles touched her face, even if her muscles were still as firm, her belly still as tight, her arms as strong as the first time she stepped under this splash of water, cleaning herself before emerging to meet her lover in their new bed. He'd been hard, almost savage in a way she'd found intoxicating when she'd been younger and more easily turned with talk of power and glory. He'd craved her body, and she his, and they'd clawed at each other like animals in her sister's bed.</p><p>So much had changed.</p><p>She dried off, stepping out of the 'fresher holding a dry wrap without wearing it. Din was examining the furniture in their room, obviously still uncomfortable, more so now that she was naked.</p><p>Bo-Katan had been a politician almost as long as she'd been a warrior, and she stopped herself from rolling her eyes. On a whim, she bent down to her armor, aware of the sight she must make, and snatched up her helmet. She placed it over her head. "Better?"</p><p>To her astonishment, she saw him relax. "Yes. Thank you."</p><p>She was speechless. Here she stood, nude as the day she was born, and he was happy so long as she kept her face covered. "Have you had sex?" It was too bold and blatant a question, not worthy of a highborn daughter of a good house, who should play and suggest. But Bo was tired, and he was her husband.</p><p>His discomfort returned. "Does that matter?"</p><p>No. He hadn't. She didn't have to school her features this time, not with her beskar hiding her face. She turned to dress. "It's good information to know," she said, quietly cursing splinter cults and their ridiculous ideas about what it meant to be a Mandalorian and sparing a few curses for the girl she used to be who encouraged them in their folly.</p><p>"Are you going to bathe?" she asked him.</p><p>"Later."</p><p>"Fine. Let's go." She led the way, pushing aside her dim marital prospects for the moment in exchange for ticking over which favors she was going to have to hand out tonight.</p>
<hr/><p>Din took a long time in the 'fresher. Bo-Katan had found clean linens in a half-remembered cupboard down the corridor, and gratefully changed out the ones on the bed. When they had a proper palace up and running again, she'd have servants for this, but she'd spent enough of her life sleeping on the ground in her armor not to mind.</p><p>She sank down on the bed, comforted by the deep mattress. They hadn't changed it out, despite the multiple regimes. Satine had slept on this same mattress, maybe crying herself to sleep over that Jedi she'd mooned over, maybe getting to sleep a different way while thinking about him. Bo-Katan had spent nights here enthralled in pleasure, or alone with her thoughts. Now she'd spend what would pass for her wedding night in this same bed.</p><p>"Did you drown in there?" she called into the 'fresher cubicle.</p><p>There was no response, but a certain filled silence replaced the simple silence of before. After another minute, he walked out, still wearing his full armor.</p><p>"Thank you. I needed the wash." He didn't face her, instead turning vaguely away. He was the ruler of their people, won by right of combat, and he was shy to see a woman in his bed. Sorry, a woman without her helmet. "I'll go find a room."</p><p>"This is your room. As it was mine when I ruled."</p><p>"We both know how this works. You're running Mandalore. I just had the sword."</p><p>"No," she said, moving closer to him and hating the words. "You fought for our people. You won the Darksaber. Every Mandalorian out there accepts you as our leader. I might help," she said, biting off the word like a sour candystrip, "but you're in charge. That makes this your royal suite. If you want me to leave, you say so."</p><p>"I don't want you to leave." She heard the begging request under the words. She crawled out of the bed and went to where she'd stored her armor. Without a word, she donned the helmet again.</p><p>"Then I'll stay." She sat on the bed and pressed her hand beside herself, indicating he should sit. Din stayed where he was. "I won't force you or coerce you into something you don't want. I'm happy to tell anyone who asks that we consummated our marriage appropriately, and no one will question."</p><p>He looked even more uncomfortable. She had yet to see his face and already she was growing familiar with every skin-crawling twitch. "Won't they notice when you, when we don't, when you're not...."</p><p>A light dawned. "You think they expect me to get pregnant?"</p><p>He coughed. "That's the usual expectation for royalty."</p><p>Din couldn't see her face, which was good. She didn't like having to hide. Normally she put on a carefully-practiced expression when the subject came up. "Din, I'm fifty-four. No one thinks I'm going to have a baby." There'd been a time when she'd thought a child might be part of her life, but like so many things, the chance had passed. "I told you I was the last of my line. I meant it."</p><p>"Oh."</p><p>"This is probably a bad time to ask if you wanted children." She lightened the words with a joking tone.</p><p>"I already adopted a foundling into my clan."</p><p>He had, as unusual as the child was. Din made regular visits to Skywalker's setup, where he was gathering youths with the Force. Din's son was learning how to use his powers, and Din was learning how not to shatter each time he left again.</p><p>"You'll want to name an heir. It can't be Grogu. Mandalorians won't accept a Jedi as their ruler. I have some suggestions. We can talk later."</p><p>He nodded once. Bo-Katan felt bad for him. He was completely out of his depth in his new role, as much as he'd tried to learn the part. She could guide him, even as she fought her own impulses to seize the power for her own. She couldn't afford splitting their people into factions, not now.</p><p>She tapped her helmet. "I've slept wearing this before. I'm not doing so in my own bedroom. Are you sleeping in that?"</p><p>His discomfort grew again. "I have before as well."</p><p>"Did your covert insist on married couples keeping their faces hidden from each other?"</p><p>"Is this really a marriage?" he asked her back.</p><p>"Among the noble families, it's a pretty good one. Some people I know can't stand their spouses but they needed to make the connection. I like you," she said, and the words didn't feel like a lie. She thought through them. "You're kind, and you're honorable. You protect the weak, and keep your word, and hold true to your beliefs, and you're loyal to Mandalore even if we disagree on the finer points of what that means."</p><p>"That's not love."</p><p>"Royal marriages seldom involve that. I think my parents cared for each other. I've known a few members of the high houses who married for love. But it's not expected." She'd known him long enough to be able to guess at the answer to her next question: "Is there someone else?"</p><p>"No." He tilted his head at her. "And for you?"</p><p>"I was in love once when I was young and foolish. He died, and the galaxy changed, and the person I am now would kill him myself if I had to. No, there's no one."</p><p>"I'm sorry," said Din, and she believed he genuinely meant the words.</p><p>"I'm going to get some sleep," she said, instead of anything else she suddenly wanted to say. Words had been her sister's gift. Bo preferred weapons. "I can turn out the light before I remove my helmet, if that makes you feel better."</p><p>"Yes, thank you."</p><p>In the darkness, she set her helmet aside. She'd spent a good part of her life wearing her armor and she had every expectation of dying in it. Din lay stiffly in the bed to the other side, bound in his shiny beskar.</p><p>"You know I can't see you in the dark. You don't need to hide."</p><p>"I'm not hiding. I'm thinking."</p><p>She closed her eyes, listening for the telltale rustle of his disrobing, but the sound never came and she drifted into sleep.</p>
<hr/><p>Rebuilding Mandalore took more than winning a battle. There were factions, and they'd had decades to build up petty grudges. Bo-Katan was well versed in the bickering, and her close allies had filled her in on what she didn't already know. She knew the history of this feud, and the reason this clan wanted the rights to this water field. Din didn't. But he did have a knack for getting people to agree to the terms she'd already decided were best.</p><p>"You both are honorable people," he'd tell them, and for some reason, even the most self-serving governors suddenly wanted to live up to the Mand'alore's expectation.</p><p>"You're sure you're not a Jedi?" she teased him when they were alone after a long day of sorting out complicated treaties between groups she'd personally witnessed shoot each other with flamethrowers.</p><p>"If I were, do you think I'd be here?"</p><p>The words were simple but undercut with loss. He wanted to be with his child. Some schisms couldn't be fixed with a firm word and imprecation to one's inner warrior.</p>
<hr/><p>They'd been married for a month, and her husband still slept with his armor on, and she'd yet to see his face. Bo-Katan mused to herself that in some ways, this was the best possible marriage she could have. He made no demands of her, and while he was biddable to a point, his own sense of honor challenged her in ways she found intriguing more than frustrating. Most of the time. They needed to reward their allies but Din was just as happy to split territory right down the middle between someone whose blaster had been by his side during the war, and someone who had stayed home cowering, waiting to see who'd won. It was madness.</p><p>"It's fair," he replied, and he was the Mand'alore. His word was law, even as they slowly gathered a Council to help write laws that could be spread more evenly.</p><p>It was a night after a long session with their temporary councilors. Din had gone out to the garden to stretch and practice with his spear, something he did to relax his mind after the complications of days spent in political maneuvering he didn't understand. Bo-Katan retired to their suite, bathed, and rested in bed.</p><p>Married for a month, and her husband had yet to touch her. Bo was used to long stretches without a lover. She could fulfill herself as easily or better.</p><p>Alone, warm from the bath, and her anticipation already rising, she lay atop the coverlet, stroking her fingers up the inside of her thighs. Her other hand moved idly over her throat and down to her breasts, tweaking one nipple the way she'd always liked another's hand to do, enjoying the sudden jump of warmth between her legs.</p><p>Fantasy had always served her well. Her fingers stroked the edges of her own labia, and she remembered a pretty face she'd known when she'd been younger, back before she'd left home and followed Pre's mad quest for power. A girl at school, with soft, curious fingers, stroking her as she stroked herself. Innocent days, filled with laughter, and a hesitant tongue tasting her for the first time, licking in against her clit. Her thumb brushed it now the same way. Pre had never spent much time on her clit, preferring to drive himself deep into her at the first opportunity, but the girl, ah, she'd probed and touched and Bo remembered coming amid a splash of sunlight on a world rich with green grasses. She stroked harder now, mind drifting to another face between her legs, a Nite Owl from one of the lower houses, older than she was and far more experienced in a woman's body than Bo's first lover had been.</p><p>There'd been a holofilm star who'd caught her eye, his face too handsome to be real. Bo had watched every performance she could find, until he'd disappeared one day, another of the billion missing under the Empire's regime. He'd been popular enough that there'd been an outcry, quickly stomped down. She slid a finger into herself, thinking about his features smiling into a kiss, and she pressed her other fingertips against her lips.</p><p>A noise startled her. Her hands came free and she reached for a weapon before her mind returned from the fantasy, and the fear of stormtroopers. Din stood in the doorway to their room, the door sliding shut behind him.</p><p>He turned away.</p><p>A hot flush hit her cheeks. Then, with steel in her voice, she said, "Look at me."</p><p>"I'm sorry. I interrupted."</p><p>"<i>Look at me</i>," she commanded with a sharp bark, and his head turned as if on a string.</p><p>Bo-Katan slid her fingers between her legs again, spreading them open. She kept her gaze on his helmet, wondering if he was watching, or if he'd pressed his eyes tightly closed as much against the sight of her bare face as the image of her fingers working slowing in and out of her own tight cunt.</p><p>He watched her, she could feel his eyes open and watching her. She rubbed a hard circle around her own clit, knowing the view he was getting, the damp spot growing beneath her red curls on the coverlet, and the glistening lips of her labia wide in front of him. "Tell me you want me to stop and I will," she said, voice tight. She was close.</p><p>"Whatever you wish," he said, and his voice was as choked as hers. Interesting, she thought, as much as she could think anything clearly. He was turned on by her after all.</p><p>"I wish for you to do this to me instead, but I won't make you."</p><p>Her husband stepped closer to the bed, feet dragging. She kept her eyes on his helmet, kept rubbing herself harder. He stood beside her, his entire stance an agony of indecision.</p><p>"Touch my face," Bo ordered him, and as his gauntlet stroked her chin, her climax shot through her, burning down her spine. Din jerked back as though he'd hurt her. "Don't," she said, panting. "It's all right, that was good."</p><p>"Was it?"</p><p>"For me? Yes." Coming down, she realized how she looked, and slipped under the coverlet. He remained stolid beside her. Understanding seeped in. "You want me to put my helmet on."</p><p>"You don't want to." He struggled with the words.</p><p>"No. But I'll turn out the light." The darkness moved in between them. "I don't need you to be my husband in every way. But I wish...."</p><p>"You wish I would do that to you."</p><p>"And you wish I would cover my face, and you insist on covering yours. And here we are."</p><p>"I don't know how." The words were soft in the dark. "My covert. We were educated. There were books."</p><p>"I see." She tried to imagine an entire cult so committed to their Way. The rumors had said plenty. "I could instruct you."</p><p>He didn't reply. </p><p>After a long enough silence, she sighed inwardly. "Let's get some sleep."</p><p>"There's so much I have to learn. Every day, you fill my head with legal issues and old negotiations. I can't keep up with half of it. I'm not sure how much more instruction I can remember."</p><p>She rolled over, facing him. Din was a deeper shadow in the night, nothing more. "You could think of this as something to make the rest of it easier to bear. If you trust me, if you let me, I can show you."</p><p>"How?" The word barely broke the silence, yet chasmed with longing.</p><p>She considered him for a long moment. "Remove your armor and your clothing. You may keep on your helmet, but the rest comes off."</p><p>Without argument, he shifted to remove the beskar, setting it down carefully. She could see only outlines of movement, but she heard the slither of his undershirt sliding over his head, and heard his hesitation before he removed his shorts. He donned his helmet and sat on the bed next to her.</p><p>"Lean back against the pillow," she ordered, and waited. Din repositioned himself. "Did your covert allow you to touch yourself? Or was it forbidden?"</p><p>"It was.... There was no rule. We were told it was a weakness."</p><p>Shame was an excellent motivator, she thought. He'd have gotten himself off and felt guilty every time. "Touch yourself for me now."</p><p>"I thought I was going to learn to touch you."</p><p>"Do it," she said sharply, and enjoyed the gasp he made as he obeyed. "Slow strokes." She didn't need to see him to feel the movement in the bed of his arm's motions. She wanted to take in the view but he'd want her to wear her own helmet and she wasn't interested. Darkness would do. "Now faster."</p><p>His jerks increased in speed, and she slid next to him on the bed, pressing her bare thigh against his. A pleasing pull of desire moved through her.</p><p>His breath sped up. Bo leaned closer. "What do you think about when you masturbate?"</p><p>Din let out a small whine and didn't answer.</p><p>"I asked you a question. Are you thinking about some pretty girl? Some handsome man? Or do you fantasize about someone from back home, whose face you've never seen? A strong voice, maybe."</p><p>He groaned, his pace picking up, his hips jerking with his hand. He was close.</p><p>Bo smiled in the dark. "Stop."</p><p>Din trembled, stilling his hand, breathless. "What?"</p><p>"I said stop." She rolled half over him, straddling one of his thighs. She felt the end of his cock, wet and hot, bobbing against her abdomen. He gasped as their skin touched. "Good boy." She shifted position, moving her knees until she could drag her cunt against his strong, hairy leg, leaving a damp trail as she moved back and forth, teasing herself. She could get off just like this, rubbing herself off with his skin, and for a minute, she worked herself into a warm, tingling need.</p><p>Bo moved again, shoving his knees apart with her hands to make a space, then knelt between his thighs.</p><p>"I want your mouth on me. I'll make do with your hands."</p><p>He leaned forward, and she took his right hand in hers, bringing it between her legs, rubbing his fingers roughly against her clit, mindful of how sticky they were already with his own excitement. "Front and center. It's not hard to find." Din got the picture and began rubbing awkwardly. Not very good, she thought, but first steps were difficult for anyone. "Use your thumb, slower." His hand shifted, and there! The pad of his thumb rasped against her and Bo huffed in pleasure. "Good."</p><p>The praise pleased him, and his thumb worked her harder. She could kneel here half the night, enjoying his touches without having quite enough stimulation to come. Maybe on a future night, they'd explore that: Din ordered into one position, tenderly stroking her while she lounged reading, or napping, occasionally rising from her book or her slumber to murmur soft encouragement.</p><p>Not tonight.</p><p>"Now," she said, keeping her voice steady, "put your mouth on me."</p><p>She heard his head tilt, suddenly shy, and she pulled his left hand to her face, covering her eyes. His right hand stopped its work. She heard the helmet slide from his head, and felt the heavy shift as he set it on the bed.</p><p>His fingers trembled as they covered her face, but he leaned forward, and with a hesitant motion, he darted out his tongue to taste her, shocking her all over. "Yes," she said. "Just like that. Go on."</p><p>Din tilted his head closer, his bare lips against her labia, his tongue tapping with an offbeat rhythm at her needy clit. He didn't know what he was doing, that was obvious, but as a soft gush poured from her onto his mouth, he groaned and moved in eagerly to lick at her with inexpert desire. He was a willing student. She could work with that.</p><p>"Good," said Bo-Katan, feeling the muscles in her own legs tremble at the strain of holding this position. Din licked and prodded, his left hand twitching against her closed eyes. If they weren't careful, he'd poke her in the eye and that would be a hard thing to explain to the medical team, but she didn't want him to stop, not with his gentle, giving mouth against her, and the high, sweet note of her orgasm building hot between her legs. "Harder," she ordered, and Din's tongue obeyed, and Bo came for the second time tonight, jerking against him, head on fire and body alive.</p><p>She pushed his face away with her hands, feeling the light stubble of beard prickling through on his cheeks, a brush of hair above his lips. She wanted to kiss him and taste herself on his mouth, but even though he'd just eaten her cunt, a kiss seemed too familiar. Not yet.</p><p>She moved her legs back, resting between his thighs. With her right hand, she grasped the shaft of his cock, and felt a thick, pleasing weight. Her left hand found the cool skin of his bollocks, and she stroked there as her hand jerked him up and down three times. Din groaned, and groaned louder as Bo licked one wet stripe up the thick vein running up the underside of his prick. "Now finish yourself," she commanded him, sitting back with his balls still cradled in her hand.</p><p>He grabbed hold of himself, jerking hard and quickly, lost in the wash of pleasure. Within moments, he was coming, a groan on his lips and a wet mess she couldn't see all over his belly.</p><p>"Good boy," she said again, giving his bollocks a friendly, light squeeze, and enjoying the twitching aftershock this sent through him.</p><p>She moved away then, turning her body from him while he came back to himself. She waited for him to put his helmet back on. Instead, he lay still. After a moment, she climbed into bed beside him. She wouldn't reach for him now. He'd need time to think about things, and she slept better without someone draped around her body.</p><p>"I can teach you more when you want," she said, sleepy and satisfied.</p><p>He said nothing, only slid under the blankets next to her. Before she could nod off, she felt him reach for her hand, and pull it towards him. Instead of his crotch, as she half-expected, he placed his lips against her palm. He didn't move away, and she didn't, either, finally falling asleep touching the soft skin of his bare face.</p>
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